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Sixty-nine degrees north, zero degrees mercy.

Light the lanterns, the ice is about to fuck itself.

Kaylene, Kaylene, pussy like a calving glacier

One deep stroke and the whole room turns to vapour

Ice sheets crack, headboard collapse, timber!

I’m lost in that thaw, call me the last known swimmer

She dropped it low like the temperature in January,

ass cheeks clappin’ colder than a Mountie’s stare, see

I slid in raw, felt the permafrost give way,

ten seconds in and the northern lights started to spray

She ridin’ reverse, spine like the Dempster Highway,

every bounce sendin’ shockwaves through the ice floe, by the way

I grip that throat, she growl like a husky in heat,

bedframe splintered—search parties still lookin’ for the sheets

I flipped her, hit it prone, snow angel in the cream,

her squirt hit the ceiling, froze mid-air—mobile ice sculpture dream

Nutted so hard my soul filed for permanent residency,

passport stamped “Property of Kaylene’s pussy, eh, no deficiency”

She clenched, I slipped, face-planted in the wet spot,

came up with icicles hangin’ off my chin—polar cum-shot

Neighbors phoned the RCMP: “There’s a domestic tsunami!”

Cops showed up in kayaks, took one look and joined the orgy

I told her “Baby, slow down,” she said “Fuck your wind chill,”

then pissed a perfect circle on my chest—igloo windowsill

If global warming needs a poster child, just film us in 4K,

one night with Kaylene and the ice caps file Chapter BK

Kaylene, Kaylene, pussy like a calving glacier

I’m drownin’ in that whiteout, no rescue, no saviour

Kaylene, Kaylene, queen of the midnight flood

I’d rather die of pleasure than live anywhere above

Tell Parks Canada to rename the Northwest Passage

after the way she gushed when I gave her that savage

Last words carved in the ice with my frozen nut:

“Kaylene did this.

Send hot chocolate… and a priest.”